


conspire

by regionals



Series: cardinal rules [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Conspiracy Theories, Government Conspiracy, M/M, Multi, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regionals/pseuds/regionals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, the four of you are in way over your heads, but it's too late to back down now. (Can be read as a standalone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brEATHES DEEPLY ok so this is my child and i am working v hard on it. i have 7 chapters and 10k so far and im probably not even 10% done with the plot yet. ahh

**AS A WARNING: I would really recommend reading the first part of this series titled 'cardinal rules.' It's not necessary but a few things might make more sense, and there are things in that story that are explained that aren't explained in as much detail or in quite the same way in this part.**

**You can find that part by clicking the link in the description area of this story titled 'cardinal rules.' That's the actual series which will hold both of these stories! <3**

**(Also, if in the future there's more than two parts to this series, and you're reading this, I recommend reading everything in chronological order but again, it isn't necessary!)**

**Everything doesn't COMPLETELY comply with the first part as far as time lines and stuff like that goes!**

  


**Josh**

  


You and Tyler are outside, watching the stars and having mindless conversations. It’s a calm night, if you’re honest. Not a whole lot is going on. In fact, the night is quite… interesting. Tyler is out of his rebound phase after breaking up with a girlfriend, and tonight is the night that you’re going in for the move. The two of you have been friends forever, and the friendship the two of you share has passed the point of platonic.

“Hey, Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“So, we’ve been friends for-” and then your phone rings. At that moment, you’d never felt such burning rage towards your mother. She’s a sweet woman, she is, but _holy shit,_ she has horrible timing. Tyler looks like he’s about to laugh, and you assume that he knows what you were about to do. You shoot your phone a dirty look, but answer it anyways.

“Josh, honey?” _Oh god._ Your mom _never_ calls you ‘honey’ unless someone has died or she’s about to rip you a new asshole. “Where are you?”

“In the back field of the abandoned elementary school with Tyler, why?” You sit up. She sounds pretty concerned.

“Josh, you need to go home. _Now._ Take Tyler with you, and get your ass home _immediately.”_

“Am I in trouble?” You ask as you stand up. You motion for Tyler to get up too, and he does. Thankfully.

“No, you’re not. There’s something bad going on, and I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but you need to get home as soon as you can. And if you can’t make it home, then do _not_ head towards Chicago. It’s a zoo here, and you won’t make it out alive.”

“What are you talking about?” At this point you’re jogging towards your car, with Tyler in tow.

You hear your mom sigh, before saying, “You know those weird reports about the dead people?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“It’s happening in our town. You need to go. I’m—I’m sorry to drop this on you, but honey, we aren’t going to make it. You _need_ to though. Promise me you’ll survive, alright?”

“Whoa, Mom, you don’t _know_ that.”

And then the call drops.

“Shit,” You say, sharply, under your breath. Tyler frowns and the two of you proceed to climb into your car.

“Josh, what’s going on?”

“It’s here. The plague.”

“You mean the thing with the dead people?”

“Yes. My mom—she just called me. She told me to get out of the town and not to head towards the city. She told me she wasn’t going to make it.”

“Oh.” He tries calling his parents and each of his siblings, but gets no answer. You get a horrible feeling deep in your gut. Something’s about to happen.

  


Before heading to your house, you swing by Tyler’s place. His parents aren’t home, and the doors are locked which leaves him with no way to get in that isn’t illegal. The roads weren’t a pretty sight either. It should’ve taken five minutes, maybe less, to get to Tyler’s house, but it took half an hour. The ride to your own house took even longer.

The doors are all unlocked for you, thankfully. “Josh, what are we going to do?” Tyler asks while you rummage through your dresser, throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“What my mom told me I guess. Pack and leave.”

“Do you think maybe we should wait until the streets clear out?”

“Probably. But what if we get trapped and can’t get my car through? Like, what if this is all as bad as my mom is making it sound?”

“Josh, even if it is, we should at least try to go with a logical solution. Waiting until the streets and roads are clear would mean that we could get out quicker.”

“But what about the dead people? Aren’t they up and walking around? And don’t you think they’d be dangerous?” Tyler frowns and goes into a state of deep thinking while you continue packing clothes. “Tyler, you can wear my clothes, by the way.”

“Even if you didn’t give me permission I would’ve worn them anyways. You know that, dude.”

“True. Do you think we should pack anything else?”

“Toiletries? We might not have access to a bathroom. What about blankets? Food maybe? But we can’t take anything that can go bad. We have to take like… canned things. And potato chips.” Tyler sighs, and flops down on your bed. You turn around to look at him. “Should we prepare for the impending apocalypse? What are we going to do, dude?”

You sigh. “If I knew, I would be doing that. But you have a point. We should probably pack like, stuff to survive I guess.”

After a few more ideas are tossed back and forth between the two of you, you both start taking things from your house and stuffing them into your trunk and back seat. Canned food, blankets, shampoo, deodorant, clothes, and plenty of other things are among the stuff in your car.

  


It takes about two days for the streets and most of the roads to clear. The two of you figure out pretty quickly that going outside unprotected was dangerous, so you grab knifes from your kitchen and make plans to try to find other things that are better suited for self-defense. “I don’t think we should go for guns because they’re noisy, and aren’t we trying to stay incognito or whatever?”

“We’re _supposed_ to get out of here and try to find somewhere safer before more of those things start filtering into the town, Tyler.”

  


The two of you barely reach the edge of town before having to abandon your car due to a massive pile up of cars. Most of the cars were empty, but others had some of the dead things in them. There were some of the dead things wandering around, and you honestly think it’s a miracle that the two of you managed to get past the pile up alive and relatively unscathed.

It didn’t take too long to figure out that you had to somehow get a bullet or a knife or some other sharp object to pierce their brain before they died for real. Of course, that doesn’t mean either your or Tyler are coordinated enough to actually do that 100% of the time. Both of you were relying on your skills at running and dodging things to get past.

  


The two of you, miraculously, find somewhere to stay. It’s not the best place, but it’s better than being on the streets trying to fend off the dead things. You didn’t really know what to call them, but Tyler figured “dead things” was literal as to what they were, so it’d have to do.

Anyways, back to the place.

It's not really the best house, but the doors were unlocked, and there was a decent supply of food. Plus, it had air condition. Air conditioning was always appreciated. You honestly never realized how much you took air conditioning for granted until after you'd gone without it for a week or so.

You and Tyler spend a few weeks eating canned food and waiting Spanish soaps, since all of the local and most of the national channels were filled with emergency alerts. It's about midnight when the power goes out. The two of you wait for it to come back on, but it never does.

  


You wake up immediately when you hear the doorknob twitching, and you’re up and armed with a knife when the lock clicks. You jump up towards the door, knife ready to stab if need be.

It opens, and a guy walks in. It’s dark, so you don’t have a good view of his face, but when you press the knife up to his neck, he’s asking, “Josh, what the hell?”

“ _Brendon?_ ”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why did you pick the fuc-freaking lock?”

You hear Tyler rousing, then giggling behind you. “Dude, you can swear. It’s not like it’s the end of the world or anything.”

“Christ. Josh, do you think you could take the knife off of my neck?”

You squint at Brendon, but proceed to do so nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> id rly appreciate feedback on this so feel free 2 comment ;o; (i encourage it tbh)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essentially this chapter is 90% gay and 10% sad. (Not that sad. You don't get the time to be sad.)

**Warnings for this chapter: Minor character death. It's not that bad but some people appreciate a warning!**

 

**Brendon**

  


You were picking the lock because you needed a place to stay. You were bitter because Pete, for _whatever fucking reason,_ didn’t see nor hear you chasing his shitty van and yelling at him. Anyways, you were expecting to walk into an _empty_ house, but instead you get a sophomore pressing a knife against your carotid artery or whatever artery is in your neck.

Once you got Josh to take the knife away from your neck, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. “Dude, you’re like fifteen. Why do you have a knife?”

“Well, surprisingly, there’s a kitchen in this house.”

“Don’t get smart with me. I am three years your senior.” You can pretty much _feel_ the eye-roll from the younger boy. “So, what, are you planning to survive all of this with shitty kitchen knives? Because if you are, you’re _so_ fucked dude.”

“I’m sorry, _Brendon,_ but I wasn’t prepared for the impending apocalypse. You know what I _was_ prepared for? Asking _that loser,”_ he points at Tyler, “to be my boyfriend. But then this _bullshit_ happened.”

“Josh, you are so gay.”

“Tyler, please. I’m trying to seem intimidating due to this apocalypse induced inferiority complex that I have suddenly developed.” He turns back towards you. “Anyways, that’s not the point. I have _no clue_ what to do, man. If I had some more warning I would’ve like, studied or something.”

“You don’t _study_ for the apocalypse, dude. Anyways, is this even the apocalypse? Maybe it’s just like… a phase.”

“Brendon, a phase is straightening and dying your hair black for three years while listening to shitty punk-pop music, not people dying then coming back to life.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

  


You fill Josh in on your friend group, and what you believe happened. "I think Jenna went with Ashley. Debby might be with them too, but I'm not sure. As far as I'm aware, Mikey's with Pete, Patrick, and Andy. I haven't seen Sarah, though. I did see Ryan, and I _immediately_ went in the other direction. Apocalypse or not, he's still an asshole." Josh snorts. "Uh... anyone else I'm forgetting?"

"Tyler's parents?"

"No clue." You pat Tyler on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Well then. How about Spencer or Jon? They're your friends, right?"

"Yeah. Haven't seen them either."

"Well, this royally sucks."

  


Dallon shows up at some point. Well, not so much as shows up rather than the three of you stumble upon him.

You met him a year ago since he was a TA for your history teacher, and the two of you formed a pretty close friendship.

"Dude!" You attached yourself to him for a few seconds.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and grinned wickedly.

"It's so good to see you, man!"

"Who is this?" Tyler asks.

"I'm Dallon. I _was_ a TA for the history teacher. Anyways, I'm a Taurus, I like long walks on the beach, and I'm a Swiss Roll enthusiast."

Josh shakes his head and emits a small grin.

  


  


**Josh**

  


Dallon's nice. You guess. He's pretty forward, and it puts you off a bit, but you think you'll get used to it. Tyler instantly takes a liking to him, and you figure that he and Brendon had a preexisting friendship. Well, you _knew_ they did, but still.

The four of you work out a plan for food. One can of food per day. It wasn't the healthiest by any means, but, for now, it'd have to do. There were plans to start stockpiling.

  


"Man, why couldn't this have happened when I was older?" You ask Tyler this in the middle of the night. You whisper it, since the two other boys are in the room sleeping.

"Life doesn't work that way I guess. We'll adjust. We always do." Tyler rolls over onto his side, and pulls you into an awkward hug. "We will be fine. I'm not one for dramatic gestures, but, I will make absolute _sure_ you stay safe."

You let out a little huff. "One, that's _really_ gay, and two, how can you protect me if I'm busy protecting you?"

"I'll adjust."

"Hey, can the two of you save your sausage fest for the morning?"

"Sorry Dallon." He grunts and goes back to sleep.

  


  


**Brendon**

  


Josh and Tyler are fucking beanpoles. They both insist that they're physically prepared to go out, but you know they're full of shit. You figure that them getting out and about _will_ help, but they should not be alone. You're not exactly in shape either, but you're in better shape than they are. Dallon is a sneaky shit, plus he's in his late twenties so you can't really do anything to stop him from doing what he wants. He's quiet and moves quickly. That's mostly what matters.

You try looking for Sarah for a good month, but you don’t come up with any results, so you give up. It kills you, but you have to be realistic.

Your days are pretty boring.

Everyone goes out for a few hours in the mornings to loot, and then the four of you play Monopoly or read.

  


  


**Josh**

  


You estimate that it’s nearing October. The air is a bit nippier, and the days are getting noticeably shorter.

Present time, you’re laying on one of the beds with Tyler pretty much attaching himself to your side. “Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I miss?”

“What?”

“ _Showers.”_

“Dude, same. I don't know how much longer I’m going to be able to deal with deodorant and dry shampoo.”

“Yeah, same on that too. At least I have muscles now.”

You snort, and try to stifle laughter. “No, you don’t. _I_ have muscles. You are still skinny and you will be for a _long_ time.”

“Dude, you’re supposed to compliment me, not chip away at my ego.”

You sigh and roll over to face him. “Tyler, you are my big, strong grizzly bear.”

He groans and the two of you start laughing. “At least make it believable, you ass.”

“Oh, pet names? I’m honored.”

He gives you a cute little grin and shakes his head. You smile back at him and come to terms with the fact you are _so_ gay.

  


  


**Brendon**

  


You find Sarah.

She’s dead.

  


  


**Josh**

  


Dallon and Brendon come home one evening, and Brendon immediately books it to one of the bedrooms. Dallon sighs and sits on the couch. “Is he okay?”

“He found Sarah. She’s one of those things.”

“Oh no.”

  


The next morning, Brendon’s eyes are bloodshot and his voice is hoarse. Dallon looks like he hasn’t slept.

You walk over to the canned food, which is pretty much overflowing from the pantry, and grab a can of Chef Boyardee Ravioli. You pop the lid to the can open, grab a plastic fork, and bring it to Brendon. “Chef Boyardee’s finest.”

“Thanks.”

  


Dallon takes off at some point, and he’s vague on where he’s going and what he’s doing. You’re a little mad at him, because it only worsens Brendon’s mood. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

“You don’t know that he won’t. He will be fine.”

Brendon doesn’t believe you, and that’s fine. He has every reason not to.

  


When he does come back, Brendon’s asleep. He’d been gone for a day. He summons you outside, so you go. Obviously.

“Holy crap, you hit the motherload.” You stare at the back seat of the car in awe. He has _candy._ And _junk food._ And more canned food, but it’s a given.

“That’s not all.” He pops the trunk. _Coffee._ “It’ll be hard to make, but we’ll manage.”

  


  


**Brendon**

  


Cold coffee and the junk food help. Kind of. Actually, they don’t, but now is a good time as any to stress eat. Fuck, you lost the love of your life. It’d be surprising if you _didn’t_ stress eat.

Dallon forces you to get up and do things, and Josh, although nicer about it, also forces you to do things. “Look, you can’t just sleep all day. We have to _survive._ ”

Tyler tends to just pat you on the back and say things along the lines of, “It’s alright, dude. You can do it.”

  


  


**Josh**

  


Snow in Illinois has the worst timing. You regret your parents deciding to move from Columbus to Illinois. You do. You’re sure the snow is worse there, but you don’t _know_ that it is, so it sounds more appealing than Illinois does right now.

Dallon brings you along with him to find food and/or water before everything is _too_ frozen to actually eat. The two of you are about half way back to the house when the car slides off the street and into someone’s yard. The two of you try for about an hour to get the car out of the lawn, but eventually end up having to grab what you can and just fucking _run_ because of the dead things.

It takes another two hours but the two of you get back, and have to break the news of the tragedy: The car is gone, leaving the four of you with no form of transportation. It _sucks._

Brendon says some form of sarcastic prayer for the car, and Dallon stands off to the side, sighing heavily, and muttering the Serenity Prayer under his breath. Tyler sighs and ends up sleeping with his head in your lap. You do what you usually do; you either play with his hair or rest your arm in its usual place on his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is nice and keeps my gay little heart alive (aka keeps me writing + inspired) (as a small note though pls be nice i am a pissbaby and bad at handling insults)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going to update on sundays and mondays, so two chapters a week. I'm slooowly making progress on the story, and I write more than what I post a week so I think I'll be good.
> 
> this chapter we take a smaaaaall peek into brendons life pre-ZA (by small i mean i write a novella)

**Warning: Ryan Ross bashing in this chapter. Sorry :(**

**Edit: oh my god im a shitlord UM**

**Trigger Warning: Abuse! It's more emotional/verbal abuse, so just in case anyone gets triggered by that please be safe and feel free to skip this chapter! It's not important to the plot.**

 

**Brendon**

 

Maybe your life story isn’t really one that’s interesting, but it doesn’t stop Dallon from asking, so you decide to humor him. “Well, I was born on MM, DD, YYYY.”

 

_Your childhood was peaceful. There wasn’t a lot of turmoil. Your parents did get a divorce at some point, but it didn’t cause you a lot of heartache and pain as it did other children. You’d kind of expected it. They didn’t get along, and it was better than them being stuck in some unhappy place. You were kind of glad they got a divorce._

_Elementary school was kind of a bitch. You met Spencer in kindergarten, after he had kicked you in the shin and left you with a nasty bruise. You don’t know why you befriended him, but you did and you tell Dallon that you miss him._

_In first grade, you meet Jon. He’s a mild-mannered kid, very soft spoken and nice. It took him a while, but he opened up. He ended up being one of your best friends. Obviously. So, at that point, it was you, Spencer, and Jon. The three of you were inseparable up until sixth grade._

_Six grade is when Ryan Ross had came into the picture. He was nice. Too nice. You didn’t pick up on it, though. He was instantly accepted into your trio, so it became a quartet. The four of you got along great. Everything was pretty much golden._

_In middle school, you meet Pete. He was a bit of a dick but he meant well. He was one of those troublemakers, but you managed to get to know him and saw that he was really just a teddy bear. His posse was about the same as yours. Four kids with flimsy senses of self and questionable sexualities._

_In eighth grade, you meet Josh. He’s quiet, similar to how Jon was when you first met him. He’s very nice, but in a pure way. Ryan was nice in this fake way that made your skin crawl. Again, though, you don’t pick up on it._

_High school happens._

_Raging hormones and unquenchable needs to be self destructive._

_In ninth grade, you figure out you’re bisexual, on accident of course. You totally didn’t purposely look up gay porn, no sir, not at all. That totally didn’t happen. (Dallon laughs at you.) You seek Ryan out about this._

_You figured he was gay, so he felt like a safe choice to turn to, you know? The two of you are behind the art building, and he’s asking you, “Brendon, what’s wrong? You don’t drag me out here for nothing, dude, so tell me.” He’s a little scary, but you brush it off._

“ _I’m bisexual. Please don’t hate me.”_

_He scoffed at you. “Why would I hate you? I’m bisexual too.” He popped you one in the shoulder, and led you back towards Jon and Spencer. He outs you to both of them, and you’re kind of pissed off at him for doing so. You don’t say so, though. The other two are fine with it, so you figure it’s not worth it to pick a fight._

_That year goes by pretty smoothly after that. You go through a few girlfriends, and lose your virginity to some girl who looks like Sarah Jessica Parker. Both of you were awkward and bad at sex, but you were fifteen and horny. There’s not a lot more to it than that._

_Ryan asks you out in the first day of your Sophomore year. At that point, you’d developed a crush on him. He had a round face, delicate hands, and doe eyes. He was (seemingly) kind, you trusted him, and you were curious anyways. So you say yes. He is thrilled._

_The first few months go by great. He treats you like a prince, and you give him the similar treatment. You’d starting flitting towards Pete a little more, since he was funny and easy to talk to. Ryan doesn’t like that. He accuses you of cheating, and you were sixteen, so you didn’t really see anything wrong with his accusations. You try your best to convince him otherwise, but when it came down to it, he gave you a choice: Him, or your friendship with Pete._

_You thought you were in love, so you chose him. Pete gives you weird looks, and you avoid eye contact._

_In public, he starts holding your hand, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he would rub it in people’s faces, and he even started initiating ridiculous amounts of PDA, which you had told him over and over again you were uncomfortable with. He didn’t seem to care, though. “You’re mine and I want the world to know that.”_

_It seemed reasonable._

_The relationship goes on like that, slowly getting worse and worse as time goes on. The next school year, your junior year, Josh and Tyler come to the high school. You start gravitating towards them like you had in middle school. They were glad to have a junior friend to guide them through the hellscape of high school._

_Ryan pulls the same shit he pulled with Pete, though. “Them or me.”_

_You ask him, “Why can’t I have friends?”_

“ _They’re not friends.  They just want to take you from me. Why can’t you see that?”_

_You scoffed. “Seriously? Tyler has a girlfriend, and Josh is totally uninterested in anyone anyways. Fuck, I don’t even talk to them that much anyways.”_

“ _That doesn’t mean anything, Brendon.”_

“ _Do you not trust me?”_

“ _It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. It’s that I don’t trust them. I'm suspicious of them. Something is wrong with them.”_

_You try to reason with Ryan, but eventually you have to give up Tyler and Josh. They’re dejected, and they give Ryan and you weird looks._

_(You quit telling the story to Dallon. He knows the rest.) You meet Dallon at this point. He’s nice, and you stay after class once in awhile to bullshit with him. Ryan doesn’t know about this, and you have no intentions of letting him know either. It’s none of his business, and you didn’t have any friends. Spencer and Jon had gotten the hell out of Dodge because they were tired of putting up with Ryan’s bullshit._

_At some point you get into a fight with Ryan, and you end up with a black eye. You seek Dallon out after school one day. and he asks you about the eye. “Um, Ryan and I had a disagreement.”_

“ _Disagreement?” He’s sitting at Mr. Novinsky’s desk, with his feet propped up and he’s tossing a pencil into the air and catching it over and over._

“ _Uh, yeah. He was jealous over this girl I was talking to, and we got into it over that.”_

_Dallon frowns. “A girl? He’s your boyfriend. Why would he worry about a girl?”_

“ _I’m bisexual, which apparently means I’m more prone to cheating on him. It’s a load of shit.” You sigh and sit down in the desk that’s closest to Dallon. “I don’t know what happened, but he changed. He used to be so nice, but now he’s just some asshole. I love him, though.”_

“ _That doesn’t sound healthy.”_

“ _It’s not. I can’t leave him. He needs me.”_

“ _You’re seventeen. He’s seventeen. He can live without you.”_

_It goes on for a few months, but you eventually break up with Ryan. He throws a fit, and tries punching you again, but you run from him, and the next school day you seek Pete out and tell him the whole story. Pete hangs out with you for a while, but eventually you go back to Tyler and Josh. They’d added a few more people to their friend group._

_Debby, who was dating Josh apparently. Ashley, who you think’s a lesbian, but you never quite figured it out; she's super nice, as is the rest of the group. There was Jenna, who was dating Tyler, then there was Mikey. Mikey was a nice guy and the two of you got on well._

_You pull Tyler, Josh, and Mikey aside one day and explain to them, as well, about the Ryan situation. They, along with Pete’s crew, become your own personal body guards. It’s kind of ridiculous, having four juniors and three freshman looking out for you, since they’re all shorter than you, and three of them are way younger than you, and lack the muscle to take anyone on, but you feel secure nonetheless._

_You meet Sarah at the beginning of your senior year. She’s pretty, sweet, and funny. She’s everything you look for in a person. The two of you start dating pretty soon, and the relationship is so much fucking better than your relationship with Ryan ever was. It was nice. Everything was nice until all of this happened._

 

You get a good hug from Dallon after the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> edit: here is a quality quote from quite a ways in the future
> 
> "Sorry about your blue balls, dude."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the conspiracy shit starts here so if ur here for conspiracy well hoo boy here it is buddy

**Josh**

  


The four of you end up having to suck it up and venture out on foot to find food. The things are all but nonexistent since it’s cold enough to freeze boiling water on the fucking spot. It takes an hour to find a gas station. You and Tyler are put on watch duty while Brendon and Dallon search for things that they can stuff into their jackets and coats.

Tyler ends up in your arms because he’s cold and miserable. “Dude, we need food and we need to keep an eye out.” He just groans and presses himself closer to you. You rub your gloved fingers through his hair, which is getting a little too long for him. “You need a haircut.” He nods.

“I wish this didn’t happen, because we could be going to the Christmas dance and kissing on my doorstep or something.”

“Well, instead we’re outside of an abandoned gas station trying to keep warm. And hey, I could totally give you a kiss here.”

“That wouldn’t be romantic, though.”

“Tyler. It’s in the single digits and we’re probably going to get frostbite. It won’t be romantic either way, so let me kiss you.”

He rolls his eyes but picks his head up to kiss you anyways. You grin and kiss him again. “Josh, you’re gay.”

“You’re not one to talk.”

You hear Brendon say something about ‘newlyweds’ from inside the store.

  


Group discussions are a common pastime. A topic that has been popular as of late is how the plague even started. The four of you unanimously agree that the CDC probably fucked up with some sort of virus.

“Yeah, but if it was such a major fuck-up, why isn't the government doing more to prevent it or whatever?” Dallon asks as he he situates himself more into the couch. You're on the floor in Tyler's lap, and Brendon's sprawled out onto the floor in front of the couch.

“Maybe they're trying to find a cure? Like, a cure would keep them quite busy.”

Brendon rolls his eyes at Tyler. “The military and fucking Obama aren't scientists. They aren't working for the cure. Shouldn't the military be fighting these things?”

“Shit, Brendon, the majority of the military is probably off in Iran or something.”

“True, Josh, true.”

“What if it wasn't an accident?” Comes Dallon's response as he suddenly sits up.

“What motive would the government even have to do this?” You're asking as you slide off of Tyler's lap to face Dallon more. “Like, what good could it bring?”

“Maybe the country is like a lab rat. Cause the apocalypse and see how we recover? We don't know if the plague is in other countries. We haven't tried going up into Canada, and honestly, would we even be able to? We can barely leave this house as it is without running into at least four of those things.”

“Or, what if our country got so monumentally shitty that they said 'To hell with it' and are attempting to kill us all?” Brendon theorizes.

“Wouldn't it be more productive just to use some kind of rapidly spreading pathogen or something? Why a freaking… reanimation virus? It just screws people over. At least with a pathogen you'd be miserable for a few days to a week before finally kicking it. We're going on six to eight months here, and it's been absolute _hell.”_ Tyler chimes in with this, and everyone takes a moment to realize what he said, and to understand that it makes _so_ much sense.

“Dude, that's true. And the CDC has a lot of cures for diseases too. What if there's a cure for this one and why aren't they working to administer it? Wouldn't you think that by now, most of the country would've been treated if there was a cure or they were trying to shell it out to everyone?” Brendon's sitting up and leaning into the conversation. “This makes sense.”

“And the government does do a lot of sneaky stuff that the general public doesn't know about. Only the insanely rich and actual government officials would know about stuff like that. Well, I think, at least.”

Everyone takes another moment or two to let everything sink in. “What should we do?”

“What do you mean, Tyler? I'm twenty-seven, and the three of you are still teenagers. Can we even do anything?”

Tyler poises himself and gives Dallon a stern look. “Just because the three of us are teenagers doesn't mean we _can't_ do anything. Teenagers can do a lot of things.”

Dallon raises his eyebrows. “Really? No offense, but you're taking yourself too seriously.”

Tyler takes a deep breath, but eventually says, “Dallon, that isn't even relevant right now. Society as we know it is pretty much gone, and what the hell do you expect me to do? Sit on my ass while you and Brendon baby me and Josh? Because that's what's been happening pretty much since this whole thing started.”

_Tyler, for the love of god, shut up. Don't pick fights with Dallon. He's literally eleven years older than you and you aren't eloquent enough to take him on in a verbal debate._

Brendon scoots over to sit next to you, and says, “This is gonna be fun.”

Dallon shoots him a dirty look. “I have _not_ been babying you. You think you can handle this all on your own? Then be my fucking guest.”

“Did I say that I could handle all of this on my own? Because I didn't. And hell, I _can't._ None of us can. Even though you're twenty-seven and you're all high and mighty doesn't mean you can handle everything alone either.”

“ _High and mighty?”_

“Yeah. You heard me.”

You lean over to whisper in a sing song voice to Tyler, “ _Pick your battles.”_

Tyler shoves you away a bit before Dallon replies. “I'm fucking older than you! You're still a child! Like it or not, you're naive! You need to get over your bullshit inferiority complex _real_ fucking quick.”

Tyler stands up, and brushes you off when you try to prevent him from doing so. “My whole life I've been treated like a child, and whether _you_ like it or not, I'm _not_ a child anymore! Anyways, what inferiority complex are you even talking about?”

Dallon groans, and presses his hands onto his eyes. “Well, you're a fucking liar then because you _are.”_

And that's when Tyler lunges. He almost gets some feeble attempt at a punch in before you're in front of him telling him to back down. Brendon's up too, eying Dallon and making sure he doesn't need to intervene as well. You grab Tyler by the back of the neck, and give Dallon an apologetic look before leading Tyler into a different room.

  


You're standing with your arms crossed, trying to keep a cool demeanor, in front of the door to the bedroom the two of you are in, while Tyler paces back and forth, ranting about a bunch of trivial and irrelevant things. You follow him with your eyes, and eventually he finishes his little hissy fit. “Are you done?”

He takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. “Sorry.”

“I'm not really the one you should be apologizing to. Dummy.”

He rolls his eyes at your insult. “Nice one, Josh.”

“I'm flattered. Seriously, you should apologize to Dallon.”

“Are you taking his side?”

“Oh, hell no, you were both being assholes, but you should be the bigger man.” You end up sighing and walking over to Tyler to give him a hug. “I'm always on your side.” He returns the hug. “But don't take that as a motive to be an asshole.”

  


  


**Brendon**

  


Tyler apologizes, and you have to give Dallon just a little bit of a _look_ before he apologizes too. He claims to be old and wise, but he acts about as mature as the rest of you do. All in all, the tension wears off after a few days.

The Conspiracy Discussion escalates, and the four of you are extremely bothered by it. “It's probably not the most original idea, but, I think we should head towards the CDC or something. I would like to hope that my life after the plague wasn't just us being miserable for years. I would rather try to do something. Make a change, you know?” Josh is speaking, and you all just nod in agreement with him.

So, that's it. That's the decision. Preparations are made to head off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [war cries about feedback]


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brallon hell starts here. actually it doesnt,,,, start, per se, but its established i guess idk lmao [shrug]  
> its 1am MST rn so technically it's sunday. take my update
> 
> ALSO!!!!!
> 
> this chapter is the 1st where im gonna plop in my own fanart lmao its not the best fanart by any means but it was specifically made for this au

**Dallon**

  


Obviously, you were made the leader of the group due to the age difference, but that didn't mean you had a fucking clue on how to run things or come up with ideas. If anything, the rest of them were the brains and you were just a figure head. The idea to go to the CDC wasn't yours, and most of the plans weren't even yours anyways. Of course, your coveted 'Adult Wisdom' was given once in a while, but generally the rest of them acted as level headed as most adults. (With the exception of Tyler sometimes.)

It takes a few weeks but eventually the four of you are ready to hit the road. You and Brendon drive, since the other two don't know how to do so. (You tell them that they're going to have to learn, and _soon.)_ Brendon sits shotgun, helping direct you the right way. You know most of the ways in and out of the town, but he actually has a map, and for the most part, is able to point out roads that shouldn't have a whole bunch of traffic. (Those roads are mostly those that lead _in_ to town instead of out. You feel a little bad about breaking the law, but the thing is; there is no law.)

A few hours on the road, Brendon starts humming a song. You recognize it, but you can't place your finger on it. Tyler starts humming too, and Josh is tapping out a little beat, and you agonize over what the tune is until Brendon starts belting out lyrics. “Just a city boy-”

  


  


**Josh**

  


You laugh for a good five minutes after Dallon smacks Brendon upside the head and tells him not to sing that song. You knew he was having trouble trying to figure out what the tune even was, and if you're honest, you would've been a little peeved if it was _that._

The four of you sing a bunch of songs, and mumble the parts you don't know well, and given the circumstances, it would count as a fun time. As dusk draws near, Brendon takes on driving, and Dallon takes on being the human version of Google Maps. (You think about how much you took Google Maps for granted.)

Tyler gets sleepy once it's dark out, and shyly asks you if he can sleep in your lap. “Of course, dude. You really don't even need to ask.” He gives you a small grin, kisses you on the cheek (you go red in the face), then makes himself at home in your lap. Dallon looks back at you, and makes a kissy face, and you glare a hole right into his smug little soul. He gives you a shit-eating grin.

  


Brendon pulled off the side of the road at some point so him and Dallon could get some sleep, and you managed to squeeze in a few hours. Tyler's still asleep when you wake up, and you eventually have to wake him up as well since your leg is a little numb and you don't really want to risk losing a leg just because he's tired. He does end up falling asleep against your shoulder, though.

You're still so utterly confused at how the little shit can sleep all the time. _Apocalypse? No biggie, he can just sleep it out._

Usually, you're lucky if you can get more than five hours of sleep. You weren't ever able to sleep much before all of this started, but now it's even worse. You're pretty sure the bags under your eyes go all the way to your cheek bones.

Everyone looks tired, though. You're not the only one. Brendon's hair is always messy, and he's quit giving a shit over whether or not it's neat and/or clean. His eyes are slightly sunken in and bloodshot. Dallon's hair wasn't very neat in the first place, and now it's literally a bird's nest. He's tense all the time and looks paler than he did the few times you'd seen him around school.

Tyler has lines running from the inner corners of his eyes to his cheekbones, and he looks skinnier now, especially with the lack of food. You see yourself as the annoying boyfriend in which you try to give Tyler part of your rations. He always looks you dead in the eyes, though, and tells you that you need to eat too. _“Yeah, but you're too skinny. You need sustenance, dude.”_

Two more weeks on the road and the four of you are about half way from where you started to Atlanta. Everyone agrees on taking a break from the road, so an abandoned house is found and the four of you set up base there for a while.

  


  


**Tyler**

  


You're outside, sipping on a cup of cold tea and watching the sun rise when Brendon steps out onto the patio behind you. “Um, Tyler? Can I ask a question?”

“You just did,” comes your dry response.

“You know what I meant, smart-ass.” You hear him close the back door before coming to sit on the steps next to you. “Fuck, it's cold. How do you sit out here every morning?”

You shrug. “I don't know. I just like it. The snow looks pretty too.”

“True. It's kind of simple out here. Nothing to worry about, really.”

“No, there's plenty to worry about and anyways, normally when I come out here that's what I'm doing; worrying and thinking. Did you need something?”

“Why do you assume I need something?”

“Because you don't really talk to me as much as you do Josh, let alone Dallon.”

You hear him sigh, before he continues. “Anyways, the question. How… did you and Josh like...”

You wait for him to continue, but he ends up just making hand signals, so you fill in the blank: “Get together?”

“Um, yeah.” He's red in the face, and you're giving him a shit eating look. _He likes Dallon._

“Dunno, really. I think he was about to ask me out, but then his mom managed to interrupt us by calling him on the phone. We've _kind of_ just… done whatever since I guess.”

He then asks how the two of you became friends, so you answer accordingly.

  


_Fifth grade. A wonderful time. It's boring and you're ahead of your classmates on the academic side of things. You don't really talk to anyone except Mikey, but he has his own group of friends so the conversations are rather seldom._

_There's this new kid during the second semester though. He's far shorter than you are, and has big round eyes and a nice grin that just emits warmth. You felt drawn to him, as corny as it sounds. You approached him during recess one day and introduced yourself. “I'm Tyler Joseph and I want to be friends with you.”_

_He'd given you this shocked look, and you didn't know how to react. He eventually spoke. “Um, I'm Josh Dun, and I would like to be friends with you as well.”_

_That was basically it. After that, the two of you had been inseparable._

  


“That's cute,” Brendon comments. You roll your eyes and nudge him.

“Why did you want to know why we got together?”

“Oh, no reason, I was just curious.”

**Josh**

  


The four of you end up in a store at one point. It's all going smoothly, up until you hear Tyler yell and when you look over to him, he has a gash on his upper arm. You're to his side almost immediately. “What happened? You weren't bit, were you?”

“Do you see any of them around? I wasn't. I got caught on that metal thing and tripped trying to get myself loose.” You groan a little bit before taking your shirt off. Tyler raises his eyebrows, and you give him a look. You wrap your t-shirt around his arm, to keep some pressure on it.

“We should try finding Brendon or Dallon. I don't want to hurt you by trying to help you myself.”

He sighs, before saying, “I think I'm bleeding too much for you to try finding one of them. Where's the medical part of this place?”

You look around before heading in the general direction of where you _think_ it is. You keep an arm wrapped around Tyler while you're heading that way.

You make Tyler sit on the ground while you rummage through a few shelves. You end up grabbing gauze, an ace bandage, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Eventually butterfly bandages are needed, since the gash on his arm wont stay closed on its own.

  


When Dallon and Brendon see the two of you, they're freaking out. You'd put your shirt back on, and it was just about soaked through with Tyler's blood. Tyler's shirt was torn and on top of that, the bandages were visible. You'd taken whatever other bandaging you could find to take care of him. “What the hell?! Did he get bit?”

Tyler tells them that, no, he was not bit, and that he'd basically fucked his arm up on some metal. The two of them sigh in relief, and you take to herding them back into the car. “We should just go before we draw a herd of those things over here.”

  


In the car, Tyler is laying in your lap, claiming that it's more comfortable than hitting his arm against the car door every two minutes. “Josh, why couldn't we have grabbed ibuprofen?”

“It's an NSAID. It would've made you bleed out.”

He looks up at you and frowns. “What, are you a doctor now?”

“No, but you're in my lap, and if you think about it, I'm basically your god.”

From the front seat, Brendon lets out a long, low whistle, and Dallon tries to hold back a laugh. (He fails.) Tyler reaches up and socks you in the stomach, and you pinch his nipple, _hard,_ and lean down to say, “I dare you to punch me again,” in a low voice. You're joking, and Tyler knows that, thankfully.

Tyler raises a fist up at you, a look of defiance in his eyes. “Let go of my nipple, and I _will.”_

“You're pinching his _nipple?”_ Brendon's basically turned his head 180 degrees as if he was a damn owl. Tyler uses the arm that isn't hurt to gesture to his left nipple. “Josh, you are _savage.”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter covers roughly a year worth of things. the real chapter six originally was 300 words and was a filler, but i decided to scrap it and just get to the good stuff. it wasn't important to the plot by any means.
> 
> also i am a fuckin nerd and decided to name the virus after the one in plague inc. i am like 0% creative, but it worked so its whatever, u know????
> 
> also it isn't monday yet but shhh take this >:o

**Tyler**

 

Two months are spent resting while your arm heals, and so the four of you can have a break and have time to gather yourselves before diving headfirst into what's most likely going to end up being a suicide mission.

 

Honestly, The CDC wasn't as hard to get into as the four of you had previously expected. In fact, the doors were all unlocked. It seemed suspicious, and way too easy, but it's the end of the damn world, so you'll take what you can get.

Dallon had entered first to make sure it was safe enough for all of you. (It was.) The scene inside was rather macabre. Dead bodies lined the hallways, and they were all assumed to have committed suicide given the wounds in their heads and other parts of their bodies. As expected, there were a few biters roaming about, but they weren't hard to take out.

“Where should we go?” You ask.

“No clue. We should probably just explore. We don't know where anything is, or how the building is laid out, so we might as well look around and grab what we can.” Dallon's the one to answer you.

The first room that was unlocked was a small office, with papers strewn about. You gather all of the loose papers, and skim through the messy scrawl that fitted all of them. They're put into a neat stack and hidden away in your bag pretty quickly. The filing cabinet in the room holds another file titled 'Necroa.' You make the connection between 'Necroa' and the word necrosis, so you grab it, muttering, “Jack pot,” under your breath. You hand it to Josh for him to put into his own bag.

The second room is a mail room, or something like that. You're not too sure what to call it. Obviously, with the title you'd given the room, there was mail _everywhere._ Brendon's mouth had pretty much started watering the minute he set his eyes on it. “This is a fucking gold mine.” The three of you had started sifting through the mail, and grabbing whatever looked important. (By important, you mean the ones that didn't have labels and the other ones that looked way too official.)

Brendon carries the mail, Josh carries all of the files that had been found, and you carried notes. Dallon didn't get to carry anything, and the other three of you give him a good ribbing for it. It takes about eight hours to gather everything that piques interest.

 

Back in the living room of the house that'd been inhabited by the group since arriving in the city, all of the files, mail, and notes are spread onto the floor for everyone to examine and read. Dallon had picked up a bunch of notebooks and pens to keep notes in. The file titled 'Necroa' is the third file to have been gone through.

To say the least, the contents of it had been quite jarring. It makes you sick to your stomach within reading the first few pages, and Dallon ends up having to leave the room to gather his composure. Josh just stares, slack-jawed, at the file, and lets out deep breaths frequently. Brendon has about the same response as Josh.

Eventually, Brendon breaks the silence by saying, “Holy shit. I can't believe this.”

Dallon was back in the room at that point, and he replies with, “Ditto, Bren. I'm kind of with you; I can't believe this. I really, _really,_ hope I'm dreaming right now. This is just fucking weird.”

“Well, you did say to be prepared for what we may or may not find,” Josh says, with the volume of his voice descending as the sentence goes on.

 

That night, you have trouble sleeping, and Josh stays up with you to keep you some company. The two of you fall into one of those deep, three-in-the-morning, groggy conversations, when he takes your hands in his, and says, “Dude, no homo, but uh… Well, actually, _really_ homo, because I'm about to drop some hella gay stuff on you.”

You rolls your eyes a bit, but wait for him to continue.

“I know I said this a long time ago, but I really love you, man. You know that, and this _might_ be a little bit of a proposal, but I want to promise you that, no matter what, I'm going to do my best to protect you, and to make sure you're cared for.”

You don't really know what to say, so you lean forward and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. The two of you settle into a hug, and you say his name in the form of a question.

“Yeah?”

“You're really gay.”

He snorts and giggles, before shoving you playfully. “Asshole.” He kisses, and tells you that he loves you anyway, and you return the sentiment, but not before calling him _really_ gay again.

 

When April comes around, Dallon gets cut off from the group by a herd. He has no choice but to run in the opposite direction, and a month is spent with you, Josh, and Brendon scouring Atlanta desperately, trying to find the older man.

A note is found at the CDC.

_Heading west. I'm going to go back to Chicago, then probably Denver, Seattle, and maybe Vancouver if I can manage it. -Dallon.'_

With that, the three of you follow in his steps.

 

The three of you backtrack, heading to Chicago. Dallon isn't there, or maybe he is, but the three of you can't find him. He isn't in Winnetka, where the group had started out, and he isn't in any surrounding towns.

Chicago looks about the same as Atlanta had. It's run down, and abandoned. Your trio comes into contact with two other survivors. They don't stick around, since they're trying to find Mikey, apparently. Mikey's older brother is a pretty laid back dude, and his friend (or boyfriend? Neither of them specified) is pretty laid back as well. They're both smart, quick witted, and definitely more suited for this world than the three of you are.

They fill you in on how it went down in New York, and advise you guys to stay away, given the ridiculously high population density of the state. The higher the population density, the higher the risk.

After them, the three of you end up in one of the Dakotas. The Dakotas aren't all that eventful, but you do get to see Mount Rushmore. (Josh kisses you there, and Brendon makes gagging noises. He gets a well-meaning punch in the shoulder from Josh.)

 

There's nothing even hinting at Dallon in Denver. At this point, it's nearing the end of summertime again. You're taller, you think, and you've lost quite a bit of your baby fat. Josh is more muscular (and hotter). Brendon's gained more lean muscle, and his attitude had been increasingly gaining more and more of the 'Give 'em Hell' quality.

Given the circumstances, the three of you had been fairing pretty well on your own. Brendon misses Dallon, which is to be expected, but so do you and Josh. The three of you needed time away from the aforementioned twenty-eight year old, though. It gave each of you a chance to grow up, and to become more independent, and as mature as the three of you could get given your ages. It does suck, though, not having an adult around, because whether or not you want to admit it, the three of you are still kids.

 

You reach Seattle around October. It's (most likely) nearing December by the time the three of you are done searching the city. Hope is about to be lost when what can only be described as a miracle happens; Dallon is found. The three of you had simply turned a corner, and Dallon had just been standing there, examining something in a notebook.

It took all but ten seconds for Brendon to be all over him, pretty much tackling him into a hug. It didn't take too much longer for you and Josh to join in on the hug pile.

 

Dallon fills the three of you in on his adventure. He had, apparently, ended up with Pete's group, which consisted of him, Patrick, Joe, and Mikey, and the short guy, Frank, that your group had met in Chicago. He said Pete and Mikey weren't on speaking terms, and that it'd just gotten awkward. He'd ducked out a few weeks prior to continue his search for the three of you.

“How are they doing, like, in general?” Brendon asks. Brendon was pretty good friends with Pete beforehand, so it's understandable that he'd want to know how his friend was doing. His concern was justified. Out of the group, and aside from Mikey, you liked Patrick. He was kind of like a mentor to you. Added, he gave you answers for you English homework, so that automatically made him a good guy in your book.

“Well, Pete's an asshole for one thing. He shaved his head, and it looks horrible, but I didn't say anything. Mikey's about the same height as the last time I remember seeing him, but he looked a bit sickly to me. Patrick's about the same, except he's more of a dick than he was, and he's skinnier than I thought he could be. He doesn't look unhealthy, though. Joe's also pretty much the same, aside from a wicked tan. Andy's dead, too.”

 

 

**Dallon**

 

The first night you're back with the teenagers, Brendon pretty much becomes your conjoined twin, and while trying to sleep, you have to shove him off of you a few times. (He's a cuddler.) (It doesn't deter him, but it was worth a shot.)

The three of them had really grown up. It's weird, honestly. They look the same, but they also look so _different._ Tyler's not as naive as he used to be, and Josh isn't as timid nor as shy. Brendon's snarkier, but for some reason, it doesn't come as a surprise. He's gained more patience, though, and he's not overly rash. The changes aren't bad, though.

You don't think you've changed all that much, though. You have a bit of a tan, and your hair is even longer. Though, your time spent with the other group has shortened your patience and tolerance for bullshit considerably.

 

The second day you're back with the teenagers, the Conspiracy Discussion picks back up. You'd found a few more things, so you fill them in. Essentially, the government had intentionally infected, then bombed certain cities. The reasoning behind it wasn't clear, and there weren't any solid theories. Most other countries were assumed to have been infected as well.

“I found some dirt on who started all of this.”

Everyone leans forward, so you continue.

“I lost my files, but I pretty much copied them word for word into my notebooks. I found transcripts of conferences between American officials and foreign ambassadors.” You leave through your file a bit. “The woman who started this doesn't have a name, but they call her _H._ She, apparently, has brown hair and brown eyes, but so does 90% of the world, so I'm not holding out hope on being able to find her.

“She's a mystery. There's no pictures. She's just wildly average. The files didn't say, but I think she had some fucked up problem with the world and wanted it to end. I think she did trick a few people to get what she wanted, and it started a domino effect of shit. She's also believed to have been an employee for the CDC. The FBI and Homeland Security are both on her trail, but I'm not sure if either agency is still up and running.”

Tyler just shakes his head, eyes a little wide, saying, “We're in over our heads.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [shrugs] imo i dont really like this chapter but its a lil necessary for the plot   
> also officially ive plopped pat n pete into the fic so theres that?

**Tyler**

 

The next step of the plan, courtesy of Brendon, is to try to take control of radio stations, if possible, and to broadcast messages over radio to any survivors that might be nearby. Brendon was the spokesperson, give that his voice was the least inconspicuous. (You're nasally, Dallon sounds a little too sarcastic, and Josh sounds a little flamboyant, even though he won't admit it.) “We're going to have to move around, though, Brendon. We're probably going to piss _someone_ off, so we shouldn't try to get caught or anything.” Dallon points this out, and as usual, everyone agrees.

“Then what? What will this do? What's going to happen if people know?” Josh asks.

“Well, _hopefully,_ it would cause some sort of uproar that whatever's remaining of the government wouldn't be able to contain. People would gather, probably, and just rebel. It might be good, and it might be bad; I have no clue. And if enough people are looking for this _H_ lady, then something has _got_ to happen. I honestly figure it's worth a shot. Like it or not, we're going to die anyways one day,” Brendon's going all out with his little speech, using hand gestures and the whole works.

 

The first radio station is found in Oregon, and it doesn't take too much to break in. You pulled a few crafty little tricks with some car batteries (like, a _lot_ of car batteries), and you navigate the building with Brendon while Josh and Dallon stand guard outside. A speech had been prepared for Brendon to recite, so you hand him the paper once most of the important equipment is up and running. “That red light means the microphone is on, I think. Just, speak into it, and repeat the speech once every ten minutes or so until night falls.”

He nods, then he's holding the paper in front of him and speaking.

 

_A little over a year ago, a group of survivors, my group, broke into the Center of Disease Control and Prevention. We found files, all of which contained a little bit of shocking information. They held information on how the plague started, and information on the virus itself, which has been named Necroa._

_It's highly contagious, and most likely, everyone is infected. It's transmittable via air, saliva, blood, semen, and pretty much any other bodily fluid or medium you can think of. Someone in our group found out a lot of major cities were infected intentionally. For example, Los Angeles and New York City were two of the intentionally infected._

_We're also led to believe that the rest of the world is in basically the same situation as we are at the moment. It's… pretty horrible._

_There's a person behind all of this,_ _and all we've been able to find out is that she's called H and she has brown hair and brown eyes, which pretty much makes 90% of the world suspects._

_At the moment we're not too clear on what specific goal we're trying to achieve with this little speech, especially considering we're just four kids who are fed up with lies and bullshit we've been fed, so we just hope you're able to take something away from this._

_Thank you for listening._

 

You detach the car batteries from the equipment after each repetition of the speech, to prevent any information on who any of you are leaking out into the open.

According to Dallon and Josh, the message had been broadcast, although the radius of the broadcast wasn't known for sure. It was sent out, though, and it causes everyone to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Brendon had sounded great as he was reading the message out, and he gets a series of congratulatory pats on the back in response from the rest of you. “We really need to be careful, but I think we're doing the right thing.”

 

**Brendon**

 

In Houston, the group finds Patrick and Pete.

You and Tyler had been clearing a house, and looting food and whatever other necessities when you'd happened upon Pete. Tyler had yelled from another room, and you'd gone running. Honestly, you were floored. You weren't expecting Pete to be pushing Tyler against a wall and holding him down with a knife to his neck. He looks between you and Tyler, and asks, “What the _fuck?”_

He looks like shit, if you're honest. His hair is grown out, and he has scars littering his body. You assume they're from fights, and other incidents. The bags under his eyes are dark, and huge. He's jumpy and his voice wobbles a bit as we talks.

You step towards him a bit, saying, “We're just looking for food and clothes. Um, we aren't like, going to hurt you I guess? I mean, we don't have a reason to, and you could probably kick our asses anyways. Also, you could most definitely snap Tyler like a twig. You should put the knife down.”

He considers you for a second, and eventually lets go of Tyler, before letting out a ragged, and tired sigh. Tyler exchanges a glance with you before saying, “Um, Pete?”

He looks into Tyler's eyes, waiting for a response.

“Do you have a group?”

“Just Patrick. Everyone else is either gone or dead.”

Tyler makes an 'o' shape with his mouth, and you shift awkwardly. “Uh, you can probably stay with our group. I'm pretty sure Dallon won't give a shit.” Pete perks up at Dallon's name, and he looks a little perplexed. “Do you want to go find Patrick?”

He nods.

 

Once Patrick is found, you and Tyler lead him and Pete back to the house that the four of you were holed up in. Once the other two in the group were back, Patrick and Pete explain their story. It's… well, it's something. Pete doesn't say much; he sits off to the side smoking a cigarette, and looking as if he _really_ didn't want to be there.

You take in Patrick's appearance as he talks. He just looks downright exhausted. “Well, the camping trip happened. That's when it started for us.” He takes a while to move on to the next part, and he apologizes for it, but he's told not to worry about it. “We stayed at Pete's house for a while, but we ran out of food so we had to move on. You know, it always comes down to food. It's ridiculous.” He furrows his eyebrows. “Hey, Pete?”

The boy in question looks up.

“Can I talk about Mikey?”

Something indecipherable comes across his face, but he nods nonetheless. Patrick gives him a bit of a sad grin.

“Mikey and Pete didn't like… they didn't work out. I'm assuming Dallon told you guys?” You, Josh, and Tyler nod in unison. “Yeah it got bad, and I regret doing this, but, Mikey was given and ultimatum. Make up with Pete, and try not to fight with him every two seconds, or leave. He chose to leave with the only other guy in the group. We haven't seen them since, and we don't know if they're alive or not.”

“What about Joe?” Josh asks innocently. Patrick gets this devastated look on his face, and he shrinks into himself.

“He's dead. He got a cold, but it never went away, and the fever's what killed him in the end. He didn't get bit, but uh, he turned. I'm… not sure what it means.”

You make eye contact with Dallon, because Patrick had pretty much confirmed your suspicions. You tilt your head towards the two other boys, trying to ask him if they should be informed on what was going on. Tyler ends up telling them, since you and Dallon, apparently, dicked around for too long. “We kind of broke into the CDC.”

They look up, immediately, eyes wide and mouths agape.

Tyler relays all of the information to them, and Pete responds with, “Are you guys the ones who've been reading those messages over the radio?”

Tyler just nods, and Pete just says, “Holy shit.”

 

The two other boys tended to just keep to themselves. They fended for themselves as much as possible, and they tried to mind their own business. They only ask for help or supplies when absolutely necessary. They slowly give everyone more details of their own adventure, and it makes you realize how downright _lucky_ your group had been so far.

They get dragged into the conspiracy eventually. “You don't have to, but, it's going to be hard not to if you stick around.” Dallon had told them this, and they figured it was better to skip the bullshit, so they helped where they could. In exchange for help with stealing files and hijacking radio stations, your own group supplies them with a little more help than previously. (Speaking of stealing files, though, you find out that along with the moon landing being a hoax, Bush did, in fact, do 9/11.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Tyler**

  


The group splits into two groups of three. It starts as an experiment, and after finding out that it's more efficient to have two groups rather than one, it ends up being a thing. You're with Dallon and Josh at the moment, preparing to break into a hospital.

“Okay, Tyler, you're the fastest and the quietest. You need to get in, grab whatever files you can, then get the hell out. You can use the walkie if you're in trouble or need help.” Dallon has his hands on your shoulders, and he's staring into your eyes, and maybe even into your soul. “And, for the love of God, don't fuck it up.”

Josh kisses you for good luck, and then you're off. You're able to get in and out fairly quickly, and with a _lot_ of patient files. Dallon's ecstatic, and he literally kisses you out of sheer joy. You're shocked, as is Josh, and you're furiously rubbing your mouth and giving him an incredulous look, whereas he doesn't even acknowledge it.

  


Back at the house the group is currently staying at, the three of you are going through files, reading symptoms and finding out about the general health of the patients and how it deteriorated. Josh speaks after reading a few files. “Hey, guys? If we're all infected,” He pulls up a paper and points to a few things, “how come we aren't all dropping dead left and right? Because all of these people, they've been bit. And the notes on a lot of these files say that the bites put the virus in their blood, but if we're all infected, isn't it already in our blood anyways? How come we aren't coming down with fevers and keeling over within hours?”

Dallon perks up a bit, then scrambles over to his bag to grab the notebook he's currently writing in. (It's notebook #8, and you're a little impressed. He's coming up with quite the collection of notes and whatnot.) He scribbles down the gist of what Josh said, and then leafs through a few more files and writes a few other things down. (You assume he wrote down symptoms.)

  


The other three come back after dark, informing your group that the recent hijacking of the radio had gone exactly as planned and with almost no hitches along the way. Dallon fills them in on what Josh had said, and they get to thinking as well. (Well, Brendon and Patrick did. Pete opts to smoke a cigarette and space out.) Pete eventually looks up from the cigarette he's smoking, and asks, “Patrick, can I talk about Joe for a sec?”

Patrick nods his consent, then Pete begins. “So, when Joe died, he got a cold that just didn't go away. He'd been completely fine before the cold, but once he got the cold, everything just went at once. He was killed right after turning, but, anyways, what I'm getting at is… Well, what if this virus chips away at your immune system?” Pete's invested now, so he stubs his cigarette out, then gets to talking more. “What if it's like HIV/AIDS?”

“Yeah, but if it was like that, why aren't we all sick?” Josh points this out.

“True.”

A silence sets over the room, but then you get a _brilliant_ idea. Well, not brilliant, but one of the only other things you can think of. “What if your blood doesn't matter? Because when people reanimate, it _has_ to be something in their brain. What if the virus itself attacks your nervous system? Obviously, I'm not any sort of scientist, since I'm like, eighteen, but that might be a thing.”

“Dude, that's smart.” Dallon scribbles that down. “Okay… I have an idea of what to do next, but it involves going back to the CDC.”

Everyone looks at him expectantly.

“So, the CDC most likely has blood samples from infected people. And if we were to compare our own blood to the samples, we could verify, or at least get an idea, of whether or not we're infected as well.”

There's not really much more of a conversation that happens after that, other than everyone consenting and agreeing.

  


The trip from Houston to Atlanta takes two months. The CDC is just as easy to get into as it was the last time. The six of you immediately get to work on clearing the place of corpses, and hanging drapes over all of the windows. Beds are found and brought into the place. (Three beds are shared between the six of you. Pair offs are a little obvious. (You and Josh, Dallon and Brendon, then Pete and Patrick.)) It takes about a week, but that's the price of making it habitable.

Before locking the doors for good, you and Dallon break into a hospital to steal vials to store blood in, and syringes needed to take the blood that needs to be stored from the six of you. Before heading back, though, Dallon makes you help him raid a pharmacy. “You probably know what I'm getting at, but I'll tell everyone else when we get back.” You go with it. He has a pretty good intuition, even if his ego _is_ a little inflated. (His idea is that the six of you should try different antibiotics to see if, somehow, it helps cure it or something.) (Penicillin probably won't cure the plague, but it's worth a shot.)

  


After thoroughly searching the CDC, Josh ends up being the one to find the Necroa blood samples. Dallon takes blood from everyone, including himself, and as expected, you're all infected. It's not a surprise but it's disheartening nonetheless.

  


You, Dallon, and Brendon are in charge of the actual research. The other three are most physically capable out of the group. They're in charge of any and all runs. You're not really too keen on letting Josh out of your sight, but he has no clue whatsoever on how to handle a microscope, let alone the blood, so it's only a logical choice.

  


Another six months go by, approximately. It's the middle of winter, and each of you have been on at _least_ six different antibiotics. Aside from the side effects, they've done jack shit. The group takes a break from research and blood samples and any other shit, in favor of waiting the winter out. The CDC had generators, but gas was a little hard to come by, so they stayed off most of the time, meaning the CDC is about as cold as your left nut more often than not.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think theres probably like a chapter or two left in this? i have more written after the chapter or two, but im probably going to either split it up into a different part, or pick up the story from a different character's point of view idk no spoilers ;o

**Dallon**

 

You're woken up around dawn one morning by Brendon rolling over onto you. You try to wait it out at first, because hey, you figured that he might roll over, but after a while you remembered that he was a cuddler, and that it was basically useless to hope for such a thing. You end up shoving him off of you, saying, “Move, you load.”

On your way out of the makeshift 'barracks' (read: room with three beds), you nudge Tyler awake and jerk your head towards the door, and hoping he'll follow you. After a few minutes outside of the room, you start to believe that Tyler isn't actually going to follow you, until you hear the door open. He's follow by Josh, which really isn't a surprise. They're stuck to each other like glue.

Brendon had quit helping with the research recently since he had no new ideas nor the drive to do it anyways. With him out of the picture, it leaves you and Tyler, plus Pete, surprisingly. Pete had some weird affinity for science, which caught you by surprise, but you didn't question it because you needed all the help you could get. Anyways, an affinity for science is better than some weird fetish.

On the subject of Pete, you'd noticed that he'd changed. A lot. The last time you'd seen him, he was basically just a douchebag with an inflated sense of self. He overestimated his own importance to his group, which is why you think his original group ultimately fell apart. He was controlling, manipulative, and mouthy. No one could get anything in without him dropping a snide comment or berating them. You never really said as much, but you'd definitely thought it.

Now, he's more withdrawn. His energy levels are way lower, and he never talks unless necessary or if he's spoken to. He's just pretty much mute. (He does crack jokes here and there, though, but not often.) Instead of being rash and sporadic with everything he does, he's more precise and logical now. He doesn't do anything out of turn, and he does what he needs to do without question, and given the situation, that was something you _really_ appreciated. You probably would've turned him away long ago if he wasn't like this. You don't ask what happened that made him like this, but you figure something fucked up must've happened. Either that, or he became self aware.

 

There's a moment that, for whatever reason, you look back on fondly. It's not monumental, or something that should really even be memorable. You'd been standing in front of a window, smoking a cigarette and curling into yourself, trying not to freeze, one morning when Tyler had silently walked over to stand next to you.

After you get over your miniature heart-attack, you take him in. He's half asleep and squinting at the sun. It doesn't take him long to complain about the sun, and for whatever reason, that just _gets_ you. He could complain about how his arm didn't heal properly, and how he was left with limited motion in it, and he could complain about the muscle he'd pulled in his back, or hell, he could complain about Brendon doing smoething dumb, but he complains about the _sun_ getting in his eyes. He could've complained about how the house you, him, and Patrick were using while on a run rattled vigorously at even the slightest breeze, or the stench of corpses that lined the streets in front of the house, but he complains about the fucking _sun._

You figure you're reading into it way too much, but it doesn't take any novelty away from the moment. Somehow, the young adult had managed to maintain some form of purity. You don't know how he does it, but he always focuses on the good things, and doesn't openly let the bad things get to him. You'd always known this, but it was just emphasized in the moment. He's still pessimistic and cynical, which is just to be expected, but out of the six of you, he was the most positive. He had the _confidence_ to hold his head high and refused to let the _apocalypse_ stop him from living his life to the fullest extent.

If anything, you thought it was admirable, if not a little fake-deep.

 

You spend a lot of time thinking about your life, and wondering how you ended up in the middle of some huge, complicated conspiracy. You think you're thirty, or thirty one, and you're trying to overthrow a government that might not even fucking exist. (You figure it's still around, though. If anything had to have survived, it's the government.) You're living in the CDC with five other barely adults, and you spend your days agonizing over research, or with your head buried in a text book, trying to soak up information that you barely even comprehend. You forget what you're even trying to do. Well, you _know,_ but you don't know what good any of this is doing.

You haven't made any headway, you're not _smart_ enough to cure this, if that's what you're even trying to do, and you think it's just time to give up on the research and to move on. You're not alone on any of this, but that doesn't stop the situation from being frustrating. You feel as if you're on the verge of uncovering something _huge,_ but you can't quite begin scratching the surface, and it's honestly just infuriating.

Of course, though, life just keeps on going. The six of you manage to just live, and the CDC, of all fucking places, becomes _home._ Yep, the CDC is _home_ to you.

 

You slam your pen down on the table, and let out a ferocious groan. Tyler looks up from the book he's reading, and you think it's Josh who jumps and swears a little bit at your groan. “I fucking give up. I'm just running in circles, and I'm not making any fucking headway whatsoever. There's nothing to be _found.”_

Tyler doesn't try to encourage you, or feed you full of bullshit, and you appreciate it. “Maybe we should shift our focus from the virus itself, and more towards _H._ We were supposed to be finding out more about her in the first place, anyways. All we know is she had _some_ motive to try and take out the world with a reanimation virus.”

“There's nothing about her in existence, though. The only things we've been able to find had been in that one file, _which_ we've already lost, _by the way.”_

“So? Who gives a shit? We can just look more. We've already probably pissed off whatever's left of the government, if not _H_ her goddamn self, and like I said however long ago, we're too way too deep into this to back out.” Tyler's book closes, and he's making eye contact with you.

“What if we can't do that, though?”

His eyes roll. “Really, Dallon, really? There's _six_ of us, and we're all smart and physically able. Plus, it's next to impossible that we're the _only_ ones who are suspicious of the government, and hell, we might not even be the only one's trying to figure out what's going on. Now is _not_ the time to get cold feet.”

You don't argue, because he's right. You ask him where he thinks the six of you should start looking.

“Virginia. Pretty much the whole government was stationed there, so there's ought to be at least _one_ lead on all of this. We were headed there anyways, so we might as well just pick up the trip.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think im going to go ahead and post the last chapter after this one? ill decide what i want to do but i think this chapter and the next are the last two. for now, at least. im stil ltrying to decide if i want to make another part, or continue this part, or create another part from a different point of view. we'll see lmao

******Tyler**

 

A question you constantly ask yourself is, “Why do I get the privilege of breaking into government facilities?” This time, at least, you have Brendon and Josh with you. You contemplate your life as you look for the file, or files, about H. You don't know how you went from being the star basketball player in your school to breaking into the fucking Pentagon with intentions to overthrow the government and about ten others thing, and you don't intend to ask why.

The Pentagon isn't easy to get into, but you didn't really expect it to be either. It's huge, scary, and overwhelming. You have half of your face covered, as do Josh and Brendon, as to not be recognized or photographed or anything along those lines. The three of you are wearing black, and are trying your hardest to be stealthy. (It's easier said than done.)

The three of you spend _hours_ scouring the building before you finally hit the jackpot. It was a file about H, and you leafed through it before talking into the walkie-talkie. “I found the file.” The file contained a sketch of what H is believed to have looked like, and the person in the sketch looks familiar, but you cant quite place your finger on who she is.

It takes about half an hour, but the other two show up. Brendon immediately grabs the file, saying, “You _have_ to be shitting me.”

You throw a sly look over at Josh before saying, “The only fecal matter in the room is Josh.” That earns you a paper ball to the head, and you giggle maniacally before Brendon interrupts your antics.

“Dude, this is fucking great. It's the only, and _best,_ lead we've had on her in a few years.” Brendon closes the file and slips it into what he calls a briefcase, but what you and Josh call a purse. “Neither of us found anything, but I did find some files about what was to be done with the infected cities or whatever.”

 

Dallon, Pete, and Patrick are standing next to their cars. When Brendon holds his bag up, Dallon comes running at full speed. “Did you guys find anything?” Brendon quickly explains everything he'd found, and Dallon gives the three of you quick hugs before advising you all to head out. “We already raised enough hell, so we shouldn't risk it by lingering.”

 

**Dallon**

  


You and Brendon sit in a comfortable silence up until the sun goes down. Brendon, much like the rest of you, has grown to hate the dark, so he starts talking, most likely to distract himself. After going through a few stories you've heard a thousand times, he sighs, and says, “I'm scared.”

You don't have much to say, since you're scared too, so you nod slowly.

“I feel like we're close to finding H, and a few other things, and it just… It makes me sick to my stomach. I just have this sense of impending doom.”

You reach your right hand out to him, and place it on his shoulder. “I can't promise anything, but, I think we'll be fine.”

“Thanks, Dallon. I guess all we can really do is live life to the fullest.”

“Yep.” You return your hand to it's place on the steering wheel and wait. If you wait long enough, he'll talk.

He fidgets, and you mentally sigh. You're pretty sure you know what he's about to do, and you're not sure how you're going to respond. “Um, I'mkindofinlovewithyou.”

You sigh outwardly this time. You spare him a glance before saying, “Can we not do this while I'm driving? Also, I know. You're really obvious.”

Brendon seems really dejected, but he doesn't say anything else.

  


When the group stops for the night, you pull Brendon aside to talk to him. Before you can get a word in, he asks, “You don't like me like that, do you?”

“Bren, I don't know. I haven't really had a lot of time to think about that stuff.” He nods and avoids eye contact, so you continue to speak. “Are you sure you want to like me? I'm nine years older than you, and the age difference might impose some weird imbalance of power, and that can get out of hand really easily.”

“Dallon, we could very well be dead tomorrow. I don't see why this should be an issue. I hate to say it, but, YOLO, you know?”

You nod in agreement. “Look, I've… I've never really been with any guys and I've never looked at any either. Give me time I guess. And no, that's not an answer right now. I'll try to give you one at some point.”

Brendon looks a little sad, but he pats your arm before heading back towards the group.

  


You get cornered by Josh before setting off the next day. “What did you say to Brendon? He's sulking.”

“What do you mean?” You say, carefully.

“You know what I mean, Dallon. I know he confessed to you, and I want to know what you said.”

“I didn't say anything? I just told him I've never really been into guys before, but that I'd consider it. I also pointed out the age difference, and said that I haven't had time to think about this stuff, because for the past few years, I've been pretty busy with the Necroa shit and the H stuff.”

Josh's eyebrows go up, and he blinks at you. “I can't really argue with that, but it's a little bit of a piss-poor response.”

“What, do you want me to just be his boyfriend because he's in love with me, or he thinks he is? Sorry to break it to you, Kid, but that's not how life works.” Josh doesn't say anything after that, but he stalks off, and you throw your hands in the air, and grumble out, “Teenagers, man.”

  


You get stuck in the car with Tyler and Pete for the day. Pete sleeps in the back seat, and Tyler stares out of the window. _Man, Pete sleeps a lot. I wish I could sleep like that._

Eventually, Tyler says, “Brendon's upset.”

You slam on the breaks. “Will both you and Josh climb out of my fucking ass about Brendon?! I'm in my goddamn thirties and I have a fucking twenty three year old that's in love with me, alright?”

“Sheesh, sorry.”

Pete stirs long enough to say, “You're a bit of an asshole,” before going back to sleep.

You turn around in your seat, and give him a _really_ dirty look. “That's real rich, especially coming from you.”

“I'm not fighting with you, so keep driving.” He pulls the hood of his jacket up to cover his face.

You continue driving like Pete tells you, but you're a little irritated at the group of young adults.

  


In Ohio, Patrick drives in the front of the two cars, and leads the way to a small town that he said he'd been in before with his previous group. (Well, not so much as previous, but rather _dead.)_ It's… a small town. It's pretty shitty. It's smaller than where your group originated from, which is saying something. (Winnetka, Illinois. It's pretty small.) The population was barely 1,800 before the whole shebang, and it's literally just nonexistent now.

Patrick and Pete said they'd managed to clear a few neighborhoods when they were here a few years ago, but that they couldn't promise that they were still clear. You say it's better than nothing, and given how long it'd been since everything started, things should be pretty tame anyways.

The things, which everyone went between calling 'rotters' and 'biters', would only stay alive so long as the brain was intact, and given that it'd been about four years since The Turn, most of them had rotted anyways. The only new ones were people who died recently, and you estimated at least half the world's population had been wiped out.

  


The town was basically devoid of anything, living or dead, which you kind of expected and hoped for. It was a good of a place as any to settle down for a bit, especially to get your ducks in a row.

You end up having to chew Brendon out a bit, though. “Dude, just because I shot you down, doesn't mean you need to cop an attitude with me. We're a group, and if you're upset at me, then you're going to have to deal with it. I'm sorry, I am, but _please,_ we need to get along. If we're fighting, or whatever this is, it just stresses everyone else out. Look, I just need time. I've told you that.”

“Sorry. It's just awkward, I guess. Friends?”

“Till death, dude. Want to hug it out?”

“Hell yeah.”

  


**Tyler**

  


The group decides on a dating system that goes by seasons. Currently, it's Fall of Year Four. No one knew what the date actually was, so that was going to have to work.

  


You're sitting outside, drinking some stale soda, when Dallon pretty much scares the living shit out of you. “Jesus, give me a little warning. You're like a cat.”

Dallon chuckles, and sits down next to you. “Okay, this is a weird question, but, how to guys have sex?”

You've never snorted soda through your nose before, and you hope you never have to again. _“What?”_

“You heard me. You've been with Josh for like, four years, so I figured you'd know.”

“Um, we've never…? I mean, we've given each other hand jobs here and there, but we haven't like… had time to go all the way. Plus, we've been living in close quarters with you and Brendon, and now Patrick and Pete, for so long, so we've just never had time?” Your face is red, and you're pretty close to crying in shock. “Why are you even asking me?”

“I'm trying to decide on what to say to Brendon, and I want to know this stuff if I'm going to like, be with him? And I trust you the most, I guess.”

“Go ask Pete or Patrick, or Josh. Josh has slept with other guys, as have Pete and Patrick. You could ask Brendon too, because I'm sure he fucked around with Ryan.”

“Ah, alright. Um, how are you doing?” He's fidgeting, and adjusting himself, and you're kind of close to laughing.

“I'm fine. Contemplating my sex life.”

Dallon groans and hides his face in his hands. “Dude, I'm sorry for asking that.”

“Don't sweat it.”

  


Later that day, you're in the car with Josh, out on a run, when you tell him about the previous incident. “Dallon asked me how two guys have sex.”

Josh snorts.

“He assumed we've done it; that's why he asked me. In case he hasn't noticed, we've been chasing a conspiracy for the past three and a half years. I don't know where we'd find the time to even do anything more than a few quick hand jobs.”

“It's the end of the world, and sex isn't at the top of my priorities. I mean, I've thought about it, and I know you have too, hell we've even talked about it, but it's just something I haven't really felt a need for. The apocalypse has killed my sex drive.”

You grin a little bit. “Yeah, rotting corpses can do that. Anyways, this run is for food and water?”

“Yep. Medicine if we can find it, but Patrick said his group had looted all of the pharmacies, so I'm not keeping my hopes up. I think we should probably get a few more things to prepare for winter as well. It's already getting cold, and all of my socks have been worn through.”

“You have two pairs of socks.”

“Exactly. Added, my jeans all have holes in them, and my shirts, well, as you can see,” he gestures at his ratty t-shirt that's filled with little holes.


	11. Chapter 11

  


**Josh**

  


After the run with Tyler, you head into one of the bedrooms to lay down and to maybe squeeze in a quick nap. You think about the conspiracy stuff. There's really not a whole lot more to it that you haven't already said or thought, but it's still just a bit weird.

You think there's something off about H. You saw the sketch, and she really does look familiar. You cant figure out who the hell she is, though. Her hair is short, and cut similar to how Brendon keeps his, added you don't recognize her hair anyways. Her face looks similar to one you know, though. Of course. You just… You can't place your finger on it.

It literally keeps you up at nights. Everyone else, aside from Dallon, recognizes her too, but no one can figure it out. It's as if there's a paper between you and the answers to everything in the universe, but you can't tear the damn paper apart to get to it.

The file about H that was in the Pentagon said that she'd started a community or something, and that she was the ringleader. The current goal for your own group was to survive, and to try to find the community. The file didn't list where they thought it was at, and that seemed a bit fishy to you, but there wasn't anything to be done about it. The girl in the sketch looked a bit too young to be the person behind the virus, but hey, anyone could've been capable of doing that. You guess.

You get to thinking about your old friend group. You missed the girls of the group, and not in a romantic way or whatever. They were all friends with you and Tyler, and it just felt weird not to have them around, even though it's been four years. You miss Debby's sly comments here and there, and you miss Jenna's kind attitude. (Even though she was kind of shitty when she broke up with Tyler. Well, she wasn't _that_ shitty, and her reasons for breaking up with him were totally valid and justified, but she kind of broke Tyler's heart, so you held a bit of a grudge.)

You miss Ashley too. Next to Tyler, she was one of your best friends. The two of you were able to talk and to keep on equal ground with most things. There was this level of respect. She also didn't feed you a bunch of shit whenever you went to her with problems. It's not like the others do either, but she had a weird way of being blunt, yet not hurtful.

You can't really even remember what she looked like. You remember that she had a pretty cute smile, and that you were constantly in shock over how she kept her hair this really strong shade of blue. You guessed she was a pretty girl, but you didn't really have any interest in her. You're sure the two of you would've been a fine couple, but you had your eyes on Tyler, and you're pretty sure she had her eyes on Jenna anyways.

Tyler comes into the room at some point, and lays next to you. “You're thinking. What are you thinking?”

“Thinking about Ashley.”

“Frangipane? Man, I haven't thought about her in a while. I wonder if she's still alive.”

“You know, it's weird, but I really can't remember what she looked like.”

The two of you try to figure out what she looked like, until eventually seeking Dallon out. You had it on good authority (Brendon) that Dallon was pretty talented with the pencil and good ol' sheet of printer paper, and thought that maybe he would be able to make a sketch with the description either you or Tyler remembered.

“I haven't drawn in a while. Like, four years kind of while. I can try, I guess.”

He grabs a pencil from his bag, and drags out one of his notebooks. You and Tyler start describing what she looked like, and he eventually finishes the sketch.

The person he sketched, well, it shocked both the two of you, _and_ Dallon. You stare at it in shock, trying to process the information. It just doesn't _click._ It can't be right. There's no way.

“Ashley… She can't be...” Tyler says that before rushing into one of the other rooms to grab the file. Once he's back, he slams it onto the table and opens it. He pulls out the sketch, and compares it to Dallon's. “This isn't right. Around the time that virus was created, she was in high school with us. I think the real H has framed her.”


	12. surprise bitch!

 

okay this isn't an update to this story or anything but i'm working on rewriting it at the moment. i tried writing the third part to the whole series but im going to rewrite conspire and pretend cardinal rules never happened since it's literally a cringefest lmao. i started writing this almost a year ago which is weird ig?? anyways i have it printed out and i've been writing down notes and shit so yeah its gonna happen oo.


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